


The Apprentice

by Aeowyn



Category: American McGee's Alice
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2018-12-21 07:30:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11939286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeowyn/pseuds/Aeowyn
Summary: Jack, a young man, pursuing a career in psychology found himself in the dark and dirty streets of London. His job was there, in a home for mentally unstable children. Then one day she showed up in tatters, and everything changed. He was the doctor's apprentice, she was the mentally unstable patient. He's supposed to be helping her, who knew that Alice would be helping him as well?





	1. Chapter 1

Today was the day I started my apprenticeship at the home for mentally unstable children in London. The city wasn’t the prettiest of places, and I much rather preferred the large home in the vast land my parents owned in the sweeping countryside... emphasis on big. The cramped and compact style of London almost made me feel claustrophobic whenever I had to venture down one of its many alleys to go get whatever tonic from some apothecary across town. I hated it, but I always told myself it was to become a renowned doctor and make lots of money and restore the pride my parents once had for me.

So I went from day to day counting the hours and trying my best to memorize everything about the home, in addition to the mental illnesses as well as the doctor’s practices. It wasn’t the best work, but it was honest work. It was at least much better than shovelling horse droppings from the street, which was yet another beautiful feature of this already _wonderful_ city.

I hated everything about this place, until she came.

**.oOoO Line Break OoOo.**

“Mister Faulkner, the new guest is in the parlour awaiting you to escort her to her room. I trust you to handle any baggage she may have?” The doctor asked me, peering through his spectacles, taking his eyes off his notes for but a second. Once he saw me nod curtly before turning on my heel to the sitting room, he returned to his parchment and went into his study.

At least there would be something new in this place. Lord knows the staff here can’t take anymore of the same daily return for months on end. Otherwise we’d be just as crazy as the patients we harbour.

I made it into the parlour; it was rather grand, with a beauty that probably required an expert in interior design’s hand. From the large velvet and leather couches, to the ornate designs around the doorframes and windows, to the extravagant lamps that provided little light at all, the parlour proved to be elegantly appealing. The only true light source was the sun peeking through the windows, since the black drapes had been pulled aside. The fireplace itself was out, as it was still early in the day and the fall hadn’t quite yet brought in the cold. The logs themselves lay cold behind the near transparently thin chainmail curtain to keep any dangerous embers inside the brick furnace.

But the room wasn’t the beauty that caught my eye, and it wasn’t just because I had walked through it more time than I could count. All attention seemed to be drawn to the brunette in the room, as she sat neatly with her back to the doorway. But from where I had put myself, I could see the side profile of her face just a bit and couldn’t help but become encapsulated. The sun wasn’t the brightest thing anymore. In fact, it was her alarmingly pale skin that seemed to reflect any and all light, even the lamps I daresay.

I broke myself out of my stupor in a matter of milliseconds before speaking up, “Good afternoon, Miss…”

She turned to the only sound in the room, setting her sharp green gaze onto my overly dressed self. In comparison to her gray and black dress, that was in near rags and had obvious stains and even ash on it, my attire was very formal. I would certainly have to get her a new dress when I could afford it... because I am one of the caretakers for this house of course! No outside influence, whatsoever.

“Miss Liddell, but you can call me Alice,” she prompted in a natural English accent, despite the nature of her being at this home, she was rather well spoken. And that sounds very assuming, having only heard eight words, but you’ve never heard a cockney accent. It might as well be its own bloody language. As if it wasn’t hard enough to deal with half the nitwits in this town.

After having gone through my mental rant, all of which took place in less than a second in my head, I asked, “Alright, Alice, my name is Jack. Jack Faulkner. And I am the apprentice to the doctor here at the home. Do you have any personal belongings or is it just your person?”

I had noticed the absence of luggage in the room and was quite concerned about that. Poor girl, all she had was the clothes on her back, and those were already in tatters. My concern had begun to show as I fidgeted with my gloved hands.

“No, just me. I was told you’d escort me to my room?” She questioned, beginning to stand up and walk over to me.

“Yes, just this way,” I brought her down the hall and past one of the maids who was frivolously dusting the paintings that adorned it. They were rather bland and common ones: a ship lost at sea here, hunters with their hunting dogs here, military figurehead there. The rest of the walk was silent, as we had only passed one other person, a young child around the age of 7 was reading on her bed, her door having been left open.

I stopped in front of a door at the end of the hall and opened it for her as she made her way in, examining everything. I followed her into the room.

“That’s the bed, of course. Here’s your candle. Windows may be opened, but there is a metal grate to keep things from falling down, as that would be most unfortunate. This trunk is for all personal belongings, if you acquire any, and the dresser is over there,” I turned and began to make my way out of the room before pausing. “Oh, and the bathroom is down the hall a bit, turn right, and the first door on the left. I’ll have one of the maids bring you some clothing and get those washed.”

Alice nodded before taking a seat on her bed, looking around at the walls, probably wondering what exactly she was to do here, “Do you need anything else? Books, perhaps?”

 

“Actually, I’d very much like some art supplies, whatever you can manage,” she asked, looking a little hopeful.

I couldn’t help but smile, “As you wish.”

**.oOoO Line Break OoOo.**

I had a routine going these days, ever since the arrival of Alice a couple of months ago. I would wake up, practice the morning ritual (get dressed, brush my teeth, shave if necessary, etc.), tend to my morning duties, visit Alice, complete any assignments or chores the doctor has me do, then visit Alice, help with lunch, check on the other wards, then visit Alice, tend to my evening duties, help with dinner, after Dinner I’d wrap things up around the house, then visit Alice one last time before going to sleep.

Today, lunch had already passed (we had eaten sandwiches). I remember when Alice had first arrived, she didn’t eat too much, but at some slight prodding. With the doctor’s approval and my natural stubborn attitude on the issue, she relented and agreed to no longer skip meals and eat healthy portions. With great effect too, as she was actually beginning to look much healthier. Her skin was was less ghostly pale and more of a healthy pale colour. Even the bags under her eyes seemed to fade, although that I suspect isn’t due to healthy eating habits and sunlight, but more of an unknown battle going on inside of her head.

And no, she didn’t tell me this. Nor am I seemingly omniscient like the doctor, where he can read you like a book from but a mere glance. In fact, it was just common knowledge considering the place she was in. She was definitely not the first, and won’t be the last of the patients within these halls to come to terms with her demons.

The art supplies I had gotten her had started with a simple pen and several sheets of paper. But after I saw her first sketch I knew I had to get her something better than these crude tools, which were too mundane for her practiced hand. She had turned the ink and paper into something so vivid it resembled a photograph, but the content was at the same time so surreal it was as if Alice had taken a snapshot of another world. Her drawing had shown a tall lanky feline creature with a very large head and the widest smile with the most mysterious gaze. Just looking at it both enraptured and unsettled me.

I got her a wide variety, from oil paints to charcoal, though she seemed to prefer her black and white drawings more though. When I visited Alice, we would talk about a great many things, but she would always be drawing something. She really didn’t seem like one to sit still for too long. Her eyes long for adventure, making me wonder what she did before she came to us. She doesn’t say much, but from the files I had read about her on the doctor’s desk I discovered she had lost her family in a fire. They tried a multitude of methods to treat her, but none of them worked, which angered me, as many of them were horrendous in nature.

Her one safe place was her “Wonderland”. This was a land with imaginary creatures and friends, peaceful, clean, trusting. “Wonderland” was everything that London wasn’t, and I couldn't blame her, as London was repulsive in nature. I later thought this is probably what sparked her artwork. And upon bringing it up, she at first was very suspicious of my questions and had been a bit reclusive in the beginning. But in almost no time at all she began to tell me everything. It was almost as if she was itching to tell someone everything about it.

I was happy to listen, maybe her wonderland could become my wonderland, and it could also carry me into some other world. At the very least, it could distract me from this life, plug my nose to the filth of streets, and cover my ears from the constant drone of London people arguing and going about their business.

I thought all of this as I made my way from the kitchen to her room. I drew the door to see her with her back to me. But clearly, she had heard me make my entrance.

“Please do close the door behind you Mr. Faulkner,” She politely requested.

I closed the door, “Please, I insist you call me Jack, if I hear another Mr. Faulkner I might turn around and look for my father, or go mad.” She laughed at that. I smiled, but continued to tell her how much I hated my work and that I was only here for the credentials and to get going places. She sympathised but still liked to tease me so.

“ _I think I’ll go mad just seeing my father,_ ” I whispered, then proceeded to curse my own tongue. I had intended for that to be kept within the walls of my head. Alice had heard that and took a glance at me before turning back to her work.

Before her was a large sheet of what was pure white, but now something completely different. She had transformed this into a masterpiece. Within her work was a great hall with exposed machinery, a web of massive interlocked gears. The figure in the center of the portrait was a rather hunched and disfigured man. He wore a top hat and had a large nose. Upon closer inspection, one would notice that his body was not entirely his, but rather a series of interconnected modules, prosthetic limbs. This man, I had been told, was named the Mad Hatter, and he was in charge of this place before things started to go awry.

Something Alice never elaborated on. Ah, well. I decided to stop that _train_ **(hehe)** of thought there and instead watch Alice. In her hands was an oval shaped piece of charcoal (it had originally been rectangular but has been worn down with use) but she was now using one side of the charcoal that had apparently been worn to a point. Her hand was gliding over the work, leaving light and smooth lines behind them. She would gracefully arc them over. Whatever she was constructing in this two dimensional, grayscale world, was beyond me at the moment. But it wouldn’t take long before her consistent markings would soon click and reveal to me their purpose.

Each line was equally important, and without each other, they resembled nothing. Some argue that this is the prime moment of the artwork, when the idea and beauty travels from the artist's mind and onto the paper. During this moment, the artist transforms these raw materials into a masterpiece. Wherever the pieces don’t make sense, the artists takes it and transforms it, almost like a puzzle, with each piece being a line, a dot, an arc, anything.

I couldn’t help but smile a bit as I watched her and thought to myself, before being interrupted, “Are you just going to stand there? Or are you going to say something?”

 _The cheeky bugger_ , “And here I was, looking over your work, I should’ve known the artist behind it was equally atrocious.”

She put her hand down and dusted her blackened hands on a rag, “You take that back you scullion.”

“That was a low blow, Ms. Liddell,” I narrowed my eyes, but no level of acting could contain the smirk growing on my face.

She also narrowed her eyes, and with a mischievous glint, she countered, “Almost as low as your pay, Mr. Faulkner.”

I reared back as if I was slapped, a gloved hand going to my open mouth, and the other going to my heart, “You wound me, Alice.”

At this, we both bust up laughing, no longer able to put up the acts. I recover soon and continue,“In all seriousness, your work is as captivating as ever, Alice.”

“Thank you, Jack, although I don’t think I did the nose right. I’ll have to be more careful next time,” Alice replied, scrutinizing said nose.

“Of course you would focus on one minor mistake. Meanwhile, if I tried to do anything of the sort all you would see is a blob of a man, with disproportionate everything,” I laughed, and she too laughed at this. It was great hearing her laugh, and she was starting to do it more and more. One would think that from our conversations, we were younger. Children, even. But my age of 22 and hers of 20 would argue against that. It’s just, when I’m with her, I feel like I can be myself. I don’t have to be as uptight and closed off as I normally am.

“So, have you done anything fun today?” Alice asked, standing up and making her way over to the basin to wash the charcoal from her hands.

I took her art and framed it while saying, “As a matter of fact, I have, and I think you’d very much like what I’m going to tell you.”

“Is that so?” Alice asked, wiping her hands on the apron of her dress before moving to sit on her bed. She sat with her hands folded on her lap and I walked across the room to one of the walls covered in framed sketches.

 

“Remember the drawing,” I started before finding what i was looking for, “-this one.” The charcoal art was of her and her encounter with the Mad Hatter, in this piece she was wearing a very industrial and victorian looking dress. I had taken a liking to this one over the others and had secretly had the dress made. Today I got the dress delivered to me. It cost a pretty penny to get it custom tailored, but it was worth it.

“Did you like this dress?” I asked, checking again. I know she liked the blue one as well, but with the winter months coming, it was less than ideal.

“Yeah, it was one of my personal favourites, why?”

Smiling, I reached down and picked up a package I had hidden when I walked in while she was busy with her artwork, “I had it made.”

Her eyes widened with surprise and delight.“Oh my god! I can’t believe you did this,” Alice said her voice cracking, if only slightly. She opened the box and picked up a black sleeve complete with leather straps and silver buckles.

“It might not be exactly the same but it’s the closest I could get the tailor to do off of your sketch. And I had a photo taken of the sketch so that way I could use it without actually taking it off of the wall,” I explained to her, as she got a little teary eyed.

She put the sleeve back and closed the box before taking it aside and putting it on her bed, “I can’t believe you put in all this time and effort for me. Let alone gathering the sufficient funds-”

I interrupted her, “Oh don’t worry about it. I was glad to be able to do this for you.”

I smiled at her and she smiled back coming in close and hugging me, burying her head in my chest I heard a muffled “Thank you.” A little startled, all I managed to do was slowly wrap my hands around her and pat her back, before my smile grew and I placed my chin on top of her head. She never showed this much emotion and intimacy before, ever. It was a change I was happy to see.

She pulled back to smile at me again before I spoke up, “Alright, I’ll step out for a bit while you try this on, make sure it fits. Lord knows you’ve taken on some weight since the last time you wore it.”

She gasped at me, taking the bait she stepped back and crossed her arms, “You. Didn’t.” The playful mood from earlier was in the air again. Her posture and voice signaled anger, but the humorous glint in her eyes betrayed that.

“I’m serious though, but not in a bad way, it’s perfectly natural to be more skin than bones,” I told her, she just narrowed her eyes on me, “Really, you look healthy, you look…” I trailed off, the mirthful air dissipated quickly.

“I look what, Jack?” her eyes softened and her green gaze pierced my blue one, the joking look having left her eyes and being replaced by a concerned one.

I ran my gloved hand through my black hair and turned on my heel stepping out of the door, before pausing halfway and whispering, “Beautiful.” I closed the door behind me, letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.


	2. Chapter 2

I’ll be honest, I’m not the most courageous of men. After leaving Alice’s room, I went down the hall to my own and sat at my desk. What was I thinking? Why would I say that? All good questions, but no good answers. I slumped forward and hit my head on the hard wood of my desk. Say I do feel that way, hypothetically. Why would I say it then? I was poking fun at her not two seconds previous. I may not know much, but that is no way to court a lady. But this isn’t about courting Alice anyway, right? What am I even doing?! I have duties to attend to!

Realising it was near dinner, I abruptly took my leave from the room, stopping only to adjust my tie in the mirror near the door. Finally working my way through the list of tasks that always came before dinner, I made it to the long table in which the children all ate. I went to take my seat by the doctor but froze halfway upon my eyes landing on Alice sitting at her spot adjacent to mine--as seats are organised by age.

The long polished oak table was lined with china each with their own napkin placed for the children to place on their laps, or at their necks, depending on their age. The entire room itself, however was very dimly lit as the only sources of light was the hanging chandelier hanging from a much too tall ceiling and a fireplace too far behind the doctor’s seat at the head of the table. But all of this wandering within my mind somehow led me all the way back around to the beauty sitting at the seat beside mine.

There she sat, her hands neatly folded on her lap, adorning two arm length leather gloves with belts securely fastened by their buckles. Her neck was, for the most part, covered, by an unusually clean and bright white (for London, anyway) accordion collar. The dress itself was actually made of a shinier leather than the gloves with vertical stripes that led to a corset fashioned with 3 belts and buckles to match. The bottom of the apron of her dress ran to her knees and displayed the foreign characters found in her drawing. And while I could not see her legs I knew she was wearing the boots and leggings.

“You’re wearing it,” was my lame excuse for conversation as I took my seat at the table, which had been set, though no food was yet presented. This allowed ample time for discussion, which, at the moment, I was struggling with.

“Indeed I am, Mister Faulkner,” she said with a smile and a weird look at me, one of her eyebrows raised above the other.

“Oh, yes, of course. What a silly observation,” I tried to cover my attempt, “I should ask, how is it?”

“It’s lovely. Doesn’t fit exactly the same. I think this one’s a little- no, not tighter,” She caught me before I could say anything, “It’s actually a little loose on the contrary. But nothing the belts couldn’t handle.”

“Well, we still have to give the tailor some credit. he did in fact fabricate it based off of a sketch,” I said.

“That is true…” Alice had adopted a concerned look and her eyes fell to her hands on her lap, “Jack, about what you said earlier-” Just then the maids walked in with what smelled like Shepherd’s Pie.

I gave Alice a look to show her I wanted to discuss this later and she nodded in return. I picked up the ornate silver utensils and served myself. Studying the small scratches on the metal of my fork, I contemplated what I would say to Alice. I didn’t even have the answers to the questions myself. What am I supposed to tell her? I pushed these thoughts aside and started eating my food. Feeling the thirst that accommodates such thick foods I put my utensils back down.

Looking up to pour myself a glass of lemonade, my eyes swept down the table, past the Doctor who was having his evening brandy, barely glancing at the countless children digging into their food, some of whom were making a hideous mess out of the mashed potatoes. And I couldn’t help it, but my eyes were pulled back to Alice. Her long raven black hair tucked behind her ear and falling down her back like water, her face in slight concentration as she struggled to spear a rather slippery vegetable. Her eyes lit up in triumph at the small victory as she lifted the fork with her prize.

She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye and I would have excused myself had I not felt a sudden wetness on my hand. I immediately put the pitcher down and looked back at my glass. It was filled to the brim but thankfully nothing spilled, as it was soaked up by my glove.

Cursing myself in my mind, I excused myself from the table, quickly walking to the washroom I shook my head. What was coming over me? She distracts my thoughts and now my attention. I was running out of ways to deny my attraction to Alice. The staff would never let that moment down. I’m sure everyone saw me make a fool of myself while staring at Alice. I took my gloves off and finished rinsing my left hand.

I had just stepped out of the washroom when I came face to face with Alice, “My apologies Ms. Liddell. I didn’t see you there.”

I made a move to go around her but she reached out for my shoulder, “Jack, we’re going to talk about this now. I don’t want to put this off.”

My eyes opened a little wider and I immediately started to fidget, “Oh- uh, right.”

“Did you really say that?” Alice asked at first not making eye contact but then steeling her eyes and boring them into mine.

Her lack of nervousness somewhat reassured me and I stood up a little straighter, “Yes, I did.”

“Did… did you really mean it?” Alice asked. At this her eyes soften, if only slightly. It was unnoticeable by anyone unless you were staring as intently at her as I was. My deep brown eyes chained to her bright green ones.

“-of course I did,” the words fell out of my mouth a little too fast, but in my defense, I was a little insulted she could consider my words insincere.

“Then I’ll really mean this.”

Now, I always took Alice for a woman of action. She was definitely brave and often grew impatient when it came to solving things and never beat around the bush. But knowing this I still did not expect her to lean forward and grab my face to pull it down to hers.

To say I was shocked was an understatement. My neck bent down for my head to reach hers. It was awkward positioning, but my lips not reacting at first to hers was awkward on a whole other level. I just stood there, frozen.

Thankfully I quickly recovered and started kissing back. My ungloved hands instinctually grabbed at the small of her back and pulled her closer. Alice leaned into me and even proceeded to stand up on the tips of her toes to reach me. I could feel everything, her hot breath on my face, her hand starting to travel into my hair, but most importantly her lips moving with mine in this beautiful dance.

This moment, this action, was a bliss I had never known even existed, was ever even attainable. A fire travelled through my body and my stomach leapt and bound. She was the cause of this passionate flame, this burning… _love?_ Could I call it that? But what I _did_ know was that Alice was doing this to me, and I couldn’t help but crave more. This feeling was so foreign yet so welcome.

We pulled back after a few seconds, which felt much longer in person. Only one small dosage and I was already addicted to this drug. I could see she felt the same way as well, as she bit her lip and exhaled. We stood there for whoever knows how long and stared into each other's eyes. Her green eyes being all I could look at, all I could focus on, all that mattered.

I still couldn’t believe it, weeks of tension between us disappeared because of one action, and I knew this wasn’t right in my head, but it felt so good in the body and in the soul. Why was I ever taught the practise of courtship when anything I could ever want was all attainable in one moment, this moment.

And this moment forever changed my life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Romance kinda rushed - I don't like waiting, I want them to get to Wonderland already, etc. Expect some big shit next chap.  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to leave some shit that helps my self esteem and keeps me writing... actually I mostly write for myself so... do whatever the fuck.


End file.
